As he disappeared back into Dante’s, she looked down at the bottle, weighing the heft of it. In spite of Spyros and her fear, she’d acted.

To save Gabe.

Feeling powerful, she tucked the bottle under her arm. Tonight, she’d pour herself a glass of cider…because she deserved it.

Two subdued vandals sat side-by-side in the main room of the station. Seeing the camera footage and being fingerprinted had silenced Knox and Chevy’s bluster.

As if distancing himself, Baumer sat at his desk across the room.

Leaning a hip against the center table, Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. “What with the evidence we have, a prosecutor would go for a third-degree criminal mischief charge. That’s a felony offense.”

His words fell into the silent room, and as the two shrank, Gabe…paused.

He’d been damn pissed at their deliberate destruction of what people were trying to build. Barbarians versus civilization.

Only…these two had chosen a dying town and to live in the bush, obviously to escape civilization. Now, an influx of people was ruining their primitive sanctuary. They wanted their world to stay the same. The men were scared and cornered and, like animals, had fought back.

Unfortunately, no one could prevent change, no matter how much he spray-painted and destroyed.

“All right, here’s how I see it. I can give you over to be prosecuted. You’d probably end up in prison, a tax drain on our law-abiding populace. Or you can visit each business you screwed with, tell the owners what you did, and work off the damage…within a month’s time. In addition, I want your word you’ll stop this shit.”

When Baumer started to speak, Gabe shot him a warning look. The officer settled back in his chair.

Knox stared at Gabe. “You’d let us go? After fighting with you?”

“That fight was the best five minutes I’ve had since I started this job. Yeah, I’m taking a chance here, but neither of you would do well in prison.” It would feel too much like he’d be locking up the sarge. Mako’s PTSD would’ve gone through the roof if he’d been put behind bars.

Under Knox’s long mustache, a muscle twitched.

Chevy opened and closed his hands repeatedly. He had kids. A wife.

No matter their hatred for Gabe, the new businesses, and the tourists, neither man wanted to go to jail.

“I’m serious about you paying for the damages.” Gabe shook his head. “My oath is to the citizens here—to protect them. If they don’t feel they’ve been recompensed, we’ll have a problem.”

Knox’s gaze met his. He was openly furious at being caught, furious at being trapped, furious at being indebted to Gabe, let alone the businesses that were destroying his world. “I’ll do my part.”